


Six Day Marriages Are A Must In The World Of Spies

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Kidnapped Darcy Lewis, Multi, Protective Husband, Some Descriptions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hydra can go fuck themselves, but Darcy kinda maybe want to give them a piece of chocolate first? She's confused and drugged, okay. Shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Day Marriages Are A Must In The World Of Spies

**Author's Note:**

> Heia!
> 
> (For those wondering, the OMC is just a passing mention.)
> 
> First time writing these two lovebirds, though definitely not the first time I've thought about it. I always feel like I have to explain myself when I post my fics, which is weird? But whatever. Just go with it.  
> That first sentence popped in out of nowhere and I had to write something. And yeah, I could probably incorporate it with my ongoing Nick/Darcy-series, but it feels like such a Winter Soldier-thing to say. It was either him or Natasha, and I tried writing Natasha/Darcy yesterday and I couldn't fucking make it work. (If you're missing some fics in that department, I will be posting something soon... At some point. Maybe. Hopefully. There will be femslash, dammit. )
> 
> \--- As always, I reserve the right to edit mistakes if I miss any :)
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think?  
> Tumblr: amemah.tumblr.com
> 
> Hugs and kisses <3

“I will have no problem defending her to my grave, but considering _who I am_ … I’ll probably be the one dancing on yours.” James thrust his knife up through the woman’s throat, not bothering to shield himself from the bout of blood gushing from the wound. Well, it wasn’t so much a wound as a gaping freaking hole. If it wasn’t for the loopy-ness the drugs was responsible for, Darcy would have been somewhere between scared and impressed. She would also be a bit horny, but she really couldn’t help the fact that twisted declarations of love got her going. She was demisexual, it was probably required or something. Well, maybe not the twisted part, but the declarations part – know what? This was making Darcy’s head hurt. More.

 

“James?” Darcy murmured, frowning at the grating sound of her voice. She coughed as James knelt beside her, but since she had given up holding her eyes open, she had to settle for the sensation of frantic hands moving over her body to calm her.

“Right here, doll,” James said, using his cybernetic arm to free her of the bindings holding her hands together behind her back. He clenched his teeth at the whimper that escaped her as the raw skin moved under the rope, and he wondered if Banner could find a way to revive the dead woman behind him just so he could kill her again.

 

“I don’t feel like much of a doll,” Darcy mumbled, closing her eyes again the sound. God, her head _hurt_.

“No? Getting kidnapped doesn’t really blow your top?”

“Dude, you’re from the forties, not fifties.” Darcy groaned, letting him help her to her feet. When she swayed for a millisecond too long, he put one arm behind her knees, the other behind her back and swooped her into his arms.

“Don’t know if you noticed, sweetheart, but I wasn’t as dead in the fifties as people liked to think,” James stepped over the pool of blood formerly known as Madame Hydra, his hands tightening around Darcy’s small frame. As Darcy had bemoaned many a time, curvy didn’t necessarily mean tall. The fact that James preened like freaking peacock when he had to get something down from the upper cupboards for her, _really_ didn’t make things better. (Even if his stupid smile made her stupid happy.)

 

“Mhm. Hydra can go fuck themselves, but I’m still kinda happy you’re here.”

“Really?” James smirked as he went through the halls of the – surprise – abandoned building. The rest of the Avengers were outside, leaving the actual retrieving to the Winter Soldier once everyone was either dead or captured. 

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed, burrowing further into the crook of his neck. Her voice was still weak and the black eye she was sporting obviously hurt a bit, but James reminded himself that even though she probably wanted nothing more than sleep, she couldn’t. It was difficult though, especially with the way her lips were pouting.

“I mean, I feel a bit bad about it, y’know,” She continued and didn’t seem to care about the muffled sound of her voice through James’ combat-gear. Either she knew the serum enhanced his hearing or she _really_ didn’t give a shit.

“How so?” James asked, genuinely curious. There has obviously been hundreds of conversations, more even, regarding brainwashing and all the stuff that came with it, but drug-induced honesty had never failed in his book. Then again, his book was often the same as Hydra’s book, so… Yeah, better shut down that train of thought. Quickly.

Luckily they weren’t far from the exit now, the sunlight flowing through the doors. He could see the silhouettes of SHIELD-agent’s milling about, Steve the closest to them. Natasha was right next to him, and with her arms crossed over her chest she looked just as imposing as Steve. James, and everyone else, was suitably impressed. Sam was probably the most impressed, but that was one of those things you _didn’t talk about_.

 

“Because, well. Your life was really shit and then a bit less shit when you had Nat, and then really shit again. And being happy you’re here sometimes makes me feel like I’m happy you went through that shit, even though I’m not. Because I wish you didn’t, but if you didn’t, then you would have been dead. And maybe it’s, I don’t, merciful or somethin’ to have death instead of… Y’know, shit. But I don’t want you dead. So. I’m happy you’re here and I’m never lettin’ you go, cuz love and stuff. But I also kinda wish you had died in those mountains, because that would have been _better_ than Hydra. But then again, _no_. Because you’re here, with me and Steve and everyone else and life would really be shit without you. So. That’s why I kinda feel bad, and if what you got from this conversation was that I wish you were dead, we need to have it again. When I’m less drugged and kidnapped.”

 

Somewhere during the rant, James had stopped walking and started staring at her face. That wasn’t a new thing; he liked staring at her face. He liked staring at her face when she smiled, when she was proud of herself for something he would _say_ was stupid, but would secretly admire, and he liked staring at her face as she came around his fingers. In the outer vision of his sight, he could see Steve crinkling his forehead, but he wasn’t worried enough about their sudden stop to check up upon them yet. James was glad, knowing that even though he was as modern a man he could be, he still wasn’t really comfortable letting Steve see him _this_ particular kind of vulnerable. It was something else when it came to shellshock-induced paranoia or nightmares, if that’s the case Steve could look as much as he wanted, but this? _This_ belonged to Darcy and only Darcy.

 

“I love you too, Darcy.” He said and leaned down to give her a brief kiss on her forehead. It was sticky, and he honestly didn’t know who was responsible for the blood covering the pale skin there.

 

“I know, dude. Don’t think you would have married me otherwise,” She chuckled, kissing the base of his neck as he started walking again. Intellectually Darcy knew James had very strong arms – enough wonderful evenings spent up against a wall with him ramming into her was proof of that – but she was still impressed with how long he’d been holding her up.

 

“Actually, did I tell you about that time I had to marry my mark? We were in Prague and it lasted for six days. I killed him with a knife after sex, and my last words to him were ‘I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be the Black Widow’,”

Darcy procured strength from fucking _nowhere_ and managed to lift her head for a few seconds to stare at her husband. In the corner of her eye she could see Natasha perking up – as much as Natasha ever _perked_ – as she heard her name when they went by, toward the medics.

“The next time a reporter asks you if you have special someone, you should tell them that story. And also, I _knew_ you weren’t totally straight,”

“Yeah, it was kind of a toss-up whether to seduce you or Tony, to be honest.”

“You take that back right now!”

**Author's Note:**

> ***None of the characters here belong to me, they belong to Marvel or Disney or whoever owns them. I'm too busy writing fanfic and reblogging speeches on feminism to keep track, to be honest.  
> Pls don't sue.


End file.
